


Just One Long Week

by crazygirlne



Series: Just One Fixation [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Mostly Accidental PDA, Prompt Fill, Sexual Tension, bet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:09:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7550800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazygirlne/pseuds/crazygirlne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After getting caught one too many times, Sara and Len make a bet that they can't go a week without having sex.</p><p>It's just a week. How hard could it be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just One Long Week

**Author's Note:**

> Girlygamer14 sent me a prompt on tumblr: "After the team complains that they can't keep their hands off each other the two decide to make it a bet and have to go without sex and are constantly teasing each other. You can decide who wins/loses." 
> 
> I had SO MUCH FUN writing this, haha. It ended up about 3 times longer than I expected. Whoops?
> 
> Beta: The always awesome Goingtothetardis

**The Challenge**

“You’d never make it.” Sara’s eyebrows are raised in clear challenge, and her hands are on her hips as she watches for Leonard’s response.

He steps closer to her, smirking as she licks her lips. “I think _you’d_ cave first.”

It’s Sara’s turn to smirk. She closes the gap between them, and he can feel the heat of her body a mere inch from his. “Like you caved an hour ago?”

He leans forward to whisper in her ear, his voice rough. “We wouldn’t’ve gotten caught if you hadn’t been quite so… _enthusiastic_.”

They’d been caught by both Ray _and_ Mick this time, and while Mick had seemed more amused than anything, Ray had made some offhanded comment about how they couldn’t go without sex for a week.

That, of course, prompted the conversation they’re having now.

Leonard’s shirt is still askew from when he’d pulled it over his head after they’d hurried a mutual finish. Sara reaches out and straightens it, letting skin brush against skin before looking back up at him.

“Are we doing this, then?” she asks.

“What are the terms?” Leonard drawls, pulling back so he can see her properly.

“Well, no sex.”

“Yes, but we’ve gotten pretty”—his lips twitch—” _creative_ with sex, more than once. If I recall, it’s part of why the team’s so annoyed with us.”

It’s true. Sara may prefer to keep the actual penetration for a closed room, usually, but their makeout sessions often end in activities that can easily be classified as sex.

The time in the training room had been mind blowing.

“Okay… No getting off, then.” Sara grins at him. Leonard just watches her, waiting for her to remember the day they toyed with control, spending the day working each other up as much as possible, sometimes in accidental view of the team. He can see the flush of her cheeks, the widening of her pupils as she finally remembers. She nibbles her bottom lip distractingly. “Fine. Then what do _you_ think the rules should be?”

“Well,” he starts, “if we want to prove to the team that we can keep our hands off each other for a week, we should probably avoid any inappropriate touching.”

Sara reaches up and runs a finger over the shell of his ear. She trails it along his neck and down to his chest, dipping below the neckline of his shirt before moving to his bare arm, tracing a path along his bicep and then down to his fingers, catching any sensitive spots she’s aware of in the process. He swallows hard, and when she speaks, her voice is light and overly innocent.

“What’s inappropriate, though?” she asks. “You did say we’ve gotten pretty creative.”

“No touching at all, then?” He feels the first real flicker of doubt. As much as he had trouble with touch at first, as much as he _still_ does with others, he’s gotten very used to contact with Sara.

“For one week,” she says. “If I have to pull you out of the way to save your life or something, that doesn’t count. Same goes if you have to save me for some reason.”

“And if one of us caves? If we don’t make it a week?”

Sara’s ready for the question. “The loser has to teach the winner how to use their favorite weapon to maximum effect.”

Leonard considers it for a moment. The thought of teaching her how best to use his gun isn’t all that unappealing. And if hers is her bo staff, that presents all sorts of interesting opportunities.

“Deal,” he says.

It’s only seven days, after all. They can handle seven days. Still, though, Sara’s standing so close, and her hand has found its way under his shirt, and she’s so warm and her lips are so wet…

“We start in the morning, right?”

“Obviously,” she says, dragging him down for a kiss.

**Day 1**

At first, Sara figures she can just avoid Len. That’ll be the easiest way to not give in, right? So she stays in her room, and Kendra finds her before much time has passed.

“What’s wrong?” Kendra asks.

Sara shakes her head. “Nothing. Why?”

“Well, it’s just that you and Leonard are usually making out in the kitchen by like 9am, and it’s almost 11. Leonard looked a little down when he grabbed his breakfast, so I was just wondering if something happened between you two.”

“Oh.” Had they really been so bad that the team was noticing after a few hours? “We’re fine.”

Kendra doesn’t seem to buy it, and Sara sighs. “We’re trying to go a week without touching because we’ve been driving you all crazy and because it’s an excuse for a fun bet.”

Sara isn’t sure what she expected for Kendra’s reaction, but it wasn’t what happened.

Kendra burst into laughter. “You think you can make it a week? When you already have to hide from him to keep from jumping him?”

Sara rolls her eyes. “Okay, when you put it like that, I sound kinda pathetic. Stuff with Leonard is really, _really_ good though. Trust me.”

Kendra holds up her hands. “Yep, I trust you. Don’t need details. I’ve seen enough.” She lowers her hands and smiles, laughter under control. “I’m glad everything’s okay. You two are good for each other, despite the PDA.”

“I know,” Sara answers. “Thanks,” she adds as Kendra leaves the room.

Alone again, she lies back against her pillows. It doesn’t take long for her to decide Kendra’s right.

If she has to hide out in her room, she’s not gonna make it a week. She’ll have to see him eventually. Besides, it didn’t sound like he’s doing great, and even if they can’t touch, being near him might help them both.

It doesn’t take long to find him. He’s sharing a drink with Mick, who’s laughing at him.

“Shut up, Mick,” Leonard grumbles.

Sara strolls into the room, fighting a grin. “What are we doing?” she asks.

Mick’s still laughing as he answers. “We’re talking about how bad an idea this bet of yours is.”

“Shut up, Mick,” Sara repeats, grinning at him.

Leonard chuckles and holds up a deck of cards. “We were gonna play. Want to join?”

“Deal me in,” she says, taking a stool next to Mick, far enough from Leonard that she won’t be too tempted.

The card game goes smoothly, the three of them falling into the familiar pattern of bluffing, bantering, and trash talk, and Sara relaxes for the first time that day. As long as it’s the three of them and they’re doing stuff like this, she’ll be fine. She won’t lose the bet.

And then the card game ends and Mick leaves, and Sara and Leonard are left alone in the room. Leonard gets up and moves to the stool next to her, and he’s close enough that she can smell him, and she has to swallow.

“This isn’t so bad, huh?” she says, hoping he can’t hear the strain in her voice as she realizes it would take her less than a second to flip around and onto his lap.

His smirk tells her he hears it. “I’m doing fine. You ready to cave yet, Sara?” Her name is a caress, and she’s not sure whether she wants to kiss him or punch him or both.

“Nope,” she says instead. “I’m great. No problems at all.”

**Day 2**

In some ways, it was easier when Sara was avoiding him, but he has always enjoyed her company, and this bet doesn’t change that. Still, now that they’ve gone back to being in the same room more often than not, things are _hard._

Literally.

It’s not like they have sex every time they see each other. They talk plenty. They play cards. They fight, train, do weapons maintenance.

It’s knowing that they _can’t_ have each other that’s driving them crazy, he thinks. It makes the temptation worse. He’s sure they won’t make it the week, but as to which of them is going to give in first?

That’s still in the air.

He has to adjust his stance as he watches her. She's bent over the table, pointing at something on the map, and he'd had the brilliant idea that staying across the room from her might help.

Which means that now, he has a perfect view of her ass, one he knows just how good it feels slamming back against him in that very position. She turns and looks at him over her shoulder, and her expression shifts from professionalism to lust to amusement. She looks back at the table, saying something to Rip, and Leonard tries to focus on the mission.

Right. Because that's what he cares about right now. The mission.

He manages to hold on to the pertinent details though, and everything goes surprisingly smoothly, from a mission standpoint.

Leonard has a rough time of it when he and Sara have to duck into a tiny closet to hide. There's barely enough room for both of them, and though any touching could probably be dismissed as necessary for survival, he doesn't really want to bend the rules just yet. He backs as far as he can against the wall, and she leans against the door, and he knows that she isn't breathing heavily from exertion.

Maybe they leave a little sooner than they would have otherwise, but they're safe, and so is the bet.

Rip notices, though.

“As much as I admire the fact that the two of you are trying to restrain yourselves,” he tells them when they get back, “I would rather have to see you shagging again than have you jeopardize the mission or either of your lives. My eyes aren't worth it.”

“You got it, Rip,” Sara answers easily. Leonard leaves it at that; if the man wants to think they're doing this for him, he can go right ahead.

They'll prove him wrong in less than a week.

Leonard just barely catches himself in time as he reaches for Sara's hand when they leave the room. Sara notices the movement and turns to him.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Never really thought I'd miss touch,” he drawls, keeping his voice low so nobody will overhear.

Sara nods sympathetically before she grins. “Don't worry. When this is over I'll touch you _everywhere._ ”

She gives him a look that she _knows_ does things to him, then saunters off, letting her hips sway much more than usual.

He almost growls. What the hell is wrong with him?

He retreats to his bedroom, trying to get ahold of himself. He locks the door and takes hold of himself, literally, his erection growing at the gentlest touch, but he stops.

They hadn't talked about masturbation, specifically, but the rules said no getting off. He could talk to her and clarify whether solo jobs were included, but that feels like he's already admitting defeat, saying that he can't even make it two days without some form of sex, much less a week. He zips back up, carefully, and makes his way to the shower.

The very, very cold shower.

**Day 3**

Okay, she’s getting bored. Sara _can_ keep her hands off Leonard, and she has for days now. But just following the basic rules? Where’s the real challenge?

She decides to make things interesting. She's not sure why she didn't think of it earlier. As long as she doesn’t actually touch Leonard, she can do all sorts of things to tip the odds in her favor.

When she sits on Mick’s bed, across the small bedroom where Len is cleaning a piece of his gun, Leonard eyes her suspiciously. She keeps her expression neutral, then shoves the blankets off the bed, leaving only the fitted sheet on the firm mattress.

Conscious of how closely Len’s watching her, she moves slowly, closing her eyes and working through some of her favorite yoga poses.

Leonard mutters a curse before he speaks. “Sara, what are you doing?”

Only years of training make it possible to keep a straight face. “What’s it look like?” she says without opening her eyes. “You’ve seen me do this like a hundred times.” She knows that isn’t what he’s really asking.

“It doesn’t usually seem like it’s for my benefit,” Leonard argues. She can still feel his eyes on her, and she pushes into downward dog. “Really, Sara?”

Once, during a mission, Leonard had taken a baton to the throat. He’d been fine, but for a few days, his voice had been low and rough, almost strangled.

He sounds like that again.

She finally gives in to the need to open her eyes and look at him. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands clenched at his sides, and his blue eyes burn into her.

“Would you like me to do this somewhere else?” she asks, keeping her voice as light as possible.

“That would be appreciated, yes.” He clears his throat. “Or you could just resign yourself to teaching me your weapon and come do some of those poses on my lap.”

Sara shifts into the next pose, then twists and stands. She watches his eyes flash as she approaches him, and his pupils are wide and dark when she stops almost between his knees. She leans forward, careful not to make any accidental contact. She’s close enough to feel his breath against her cheek when she whispers, “You wish.”

With a smirk, she straightens, turns, and leaves the room, smothering a laugh at his strangled groan.

It doesn’t take her long to feel a little bit of regret at her actions. Mostly, she feels satisfied, and like she’s going to win this bet in no time. The rest of her, though?

She’s horny as hell, and she realizes Leonard wasn’t the only one to get worked up at her little show. She’s pretty sure she’s not allowed to do anything to satisfy herself in that way, and she refuses to lose on a technicality, so she makes her way to the training room and beats the hell out of one of the dummies.

She feels a bit better after that.

**Day 4**

Maybe he’d needed to actively distract himself for the rest of the day after Sara had pulled her little stunt, but now he’s ready to retaliate.

Stripping in public isn’t really his thing, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and he knows just how much trouble Sara has keeping her hands off him when he’s shirtless. She likes running her fingers along his muscles, kissing his scars, likes to dig her fingers into his bare shoulders while she rides him.

She is excellent at keeping his mind off the past while they’re together.

If he can pull this off without the rest of the team having to see him shirtless, he intends to. He’s pretty familiar with everyone’s schedule, and he times it so that Sara should be the only one in the training room when he gets there.

She’s beating the hell out of a training dummy when he gets there, and he doesn’t watch her too closely because he knows that’ll just backfire spectacularly; Sara’s always gorgeous, but when she’s fighting, there’s this appeal to her that means Leonard has a hard time understanding why the whole team doesn’t want to sleep with her.

He shakes his head. This isn’t what he’s here for.

Sara stops punching the dummy when she notices him, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see her leaning against it, watching him warily. He turns his head so she won’t see him grin, then pulls off his shirt and tosses it in a corner.

Leonard starts with pushups. Maybe they’re not all that appealing on their own, but they’ll get him loose, hot, and sweaty.

He moves to a bench, positioning himself under the weights, then looks toward Sara. “Spot me?”

“Really, Leonard?” She sounds like he must have yesterday: exasperated and turned on. She joins him, though, positioning herself and watching him. He’s set the weight low enough that he doesn’t really need a spotter; with them both distracted, he doesn’t actually want to risk an injury. And sure, he could’ve chosen one of the more mechanical or modern machines, but those wouldn’t have gotten Sara to stand right by him.

As it is, he knows he’s giving her a good view as his muscles work, as he builds up a sweat, and he can barely see her. He can feel her presence, though, feel how closely she’s watching him, how close she’s standing. She’s quiet, and when he finishes, she comes around to his side.

She nibbles her lower lip as she studies him, then eyes the bench. He’s about to ask what she’s up to when she puts one foot on either side of the low bench, so she’s standing over him, almost straddling him, only without the contact. She leans forward, putting her hands carefully on the bar above him.

Holy hell this was a bad idea.

She’s still glistening from her workout, and those bright blue eyes of hers are dark, and it would take almost nothing to shove their elastic workout gear out of the way and thrust up into her, equipment safety be damned right along with their bet.

“Ready to give in?” Leonard asks, at a loss for what else he can possibly say or do in this moment.

She shifts, almost wiggling her hips except that she can’t move very far without risking touching him. “Are you?” she counters.

He’s seriously considering reaching out and grabbing her hips and pulling her down against him, and he’s pretty sure she’s leaning closer to him, and he’s not sure which of them is going to break first, but—

“I thought the two of you were abstaining this week.” The professor’s voice fairly effectively kills the mood.

At least, it takes enough of the edge off that Sara’s able to move off the bench, and Len is able to keep from reaching for her.

“You’re right, Stien,” he mutters as Sara tosses him his shirt.

The bet may have survived the encounter intact, but he’s not entirely sure he did.

**Day 5**

It might be violating the spirit of the challenge, but Sara can’t help but feel a thrill of success when Leonard almost folds in a common room, in full sight of witnesses.

By now, the whole team is aware of the bet, and she senses both amusement and annoyance at her display. Mostly amusement, she thinks.

She's spent the day being as close to him as possible without risking accidental contact. It's rough on her, too, but she feels some measure of power at being the one initiating the difficulties.

Now, they're all gathered in the lounge area, and Sara perches comfortably on the arm of Leonard's chair. Normally, he'd have a casual arm around her waist, and eventually she'd end up in his lap, but tonight, his hand is gripping his drink as he avoids contact.

She spins to the side so she can prop her feet on the chair's other arm, putting her bare legs just in front of him and over his lap. She glances at him, and he glares back at her, but the heat she sees in him isn't anger. He barely has room to hold his drink without touching her, so she decides on the most logical course of action.

She takes his drink from him.

She does it carefully, not letting their fingers touch like they usually would, and she takes a little lick along the top of the bottle, her eyes shutting briefly as she gets her first taste of Leonard in days, however indirectly. She takes a sip, then, wrapping her lips around the top so that when she tips her head back farther than she needs to, it doesn't spill. When she looks back down at him afterward, he looks strained to the point that she almost considers taking pity on him.

Almost.

Instead, she raises an eyebrow and twists carefully so she can hold the beer bottle to his lips. He maintains eye contact as he copies her, licking the top in a way that shouldn't be anything like seductive, but it is. He wraps his fingers around the part of the bottle she isn't touching, and she pulls her hand away to watch him drink.

Shit. Seriously, why is that appealing?

It is, though, seeing his grip on the bottle, seeing how his muscles work as he drinks, seeing how he watches her while he does it.

When he lowers the drink and his gaze is no longer obstructed, she almost loses her balance. He reaches out a hand automatically, catching himself just in time. Sara can’t smirk because this move seems to have affected her more than it has him, and again, it would be so easy to just give in.

She’s Sara Lance, though, damn it. She’s been through harder things than this.

And if she can just get him to give in, she won’t have to deal with it anymore. She glances around, but the team is mostly ignoring them by now. They might be looking periodically, but they don’t seem to be listening.

“You know what I’m going to do to you when this week is over?” she asks, voice low.

His eyes spark with amusement and interest. “What?”

“I’m gonna fuck you in a closet, with neither one of us allowed to make a sound. I’m gonna take you to the bar when nobody’s there, and you’re gonna fuck me on it. I’m gonna ride you on the weight bench, and then we’re gonna sneak in here and you’re gonna bend me over the arm of this chair and take me from behind.”

His fingers are turning white from how hard he’s gripping the bottle, and she’d bet money that he’s _hard_ elsewhere, but she can’t see from the angle she’s at. He opens his mouth a couple times before he finally responds.

“Neither of us will be able to walk straight when we’re done.”

“That’s the idea.”

**Day 6**

Time to stop playing fair.

There's something about the shower that gets Sara frisky. He's not sure what it is. Maybe it's the heat or the relative inactivity or maybe it's just that they're both usually naked when he sees her in it.

Whatever the reason, he's relatively confident in his next plan. Leaving the door unlocked is a risk, but it’s the only way he can think to make this work. He undresses and gets in the shower when he knows she’ll be getting in soon. He leaves the water off until she steps into the bathroom, and he hears her pause after she enters and shuts the door.

The water is streaming down his back, and he can see her standing there—it _is_ Sara, thank God—and he sees her look between him and his neat pile of clothes, and he knows she won’t be able to resist a closer look and then maybe more than that and—

Is she taking off her clothes? She is. She’s taking off her clothes, tossing them aside. He feels a surge of triumph and anticipation. If she’s stripping, she’s giving in, right?

She pulls open the glass door of the shower, looking him up and down deliberately before stepping in. She doesn’t put her arms around him or reach for a kiss like she normally would, though. Instead, she smiles at him angelically and reaches for her washcloth, careful not to touch him.

Fuck.

It’s a tactical ship, not a luxury one, and the shower isn’t exactly large. It’s square, at least, so there’s a little bit of room to reach the toiletries without contact. “Sara?” He’s not sure exactly what he’s asking. He’s pretty sure he wants her to say she’s given up and he wins and he can finally touch her, touch the skin that’s getting damp as the spray ricochets off his skin and off the sides of the shower.

“You got in the shower when you knew I was headed this way,” she says. “I figured that meant you wanted to share.”

“No touching, then?” he clarifies.

“Unless you want to admit defeat.” He shakes his head, and she smiles at him. “Okay. In that case, can we switch places? I need the water for a minute.”

He has to press his back against the cold tile in order to slide out of her way without touching her, and she’s brushing against the door, but they manage it, and he finds himself watching her wet her hair, the water cascading along her body, and his erection grows from interested to I-need-sex-right-now-please-and-thank-you.

This isn’t going to end well, he thinks.

And he’s right. While he takes some pleasure in the fact that Sara seems more than a little affected, that she seems to seriously consider screwing the rules in favor of having fun together, in the end, she gets out of the shower with a husky, “Don’t do anything I can’t do,” and he’s left leaning against the wall, trying to let the cold water help him will away his erection.

**Day 7**

The end of the week is almost here, and they start to wonder whether maybe they’ll actually make it to the end. They hadn’t decided on terms for that, but Sara figures they’ll reward each other with sex.

It seems appropriate.

Something happens, though, to derail it all just half a day before the bet is over. They’re trying to get some temporally inaccurate artifact out of a warehouse when the building explodes. Sara shoves him behind a sturdy wall, and he wraps his arms around her to take her with him, and between the fall and the explosion, they both end up unconscious.

They’re out for just a few seconds, not long enough for the team to find them. Sara comes to with Leonard’s weight on top of her, and he wakes to find her arms around him as she blinks up at him, and he’s not sure which of them moves first but they’re kissing and he really couldn’t care less that they didn’t quite make it a week.

They don’t realize their ears are ringing too loudly to hear the team until Mick is standing over them, nudging Len with his boot. The man looks amused as he rolls his eyes at the two of them, mouths something, then jerks his thumb in the direction of the ship.

Leonard gets off Sara and helps her up without letting go. He laces their fingers together as they walk back to the ship, glaring at Mick when he laughs. Sara holds tight, and they get back to the ship without incident, following Mick to the infirmary.

Their hearing comes back just in time to catch Gideon’s assessment for Rip: “There’s no sign of permanent damage, but I recommend they refrain from taking part in missions for the next several days at minimum.”

“If that’s settled, then,” Leonard says, “we’ll be going now.”

He doesn’t give their relieved—and maybe a little scandalized—captain a chance to object. He glances at Sara to make sure they’re on the same page, then leads them back to her room and shuts the door behind them.

As soon as the lock clicks, she’s on him, literally hopping up to wrap her legs around his waist and crashing her lips down on his. He circles his arms around him and returns the kiss enthusiastically, pulling her close. After a few seconds, she’s rocking against his erection, and it feels amazing despite the excess of clothing between them.

She leans back and reaches down to undo his pants, shoving his boxers aside so she can reach him, and the feel of her skin against his is heaven, only more sinful.

She’s still leaning back—he would kill for her abs—and he undoes the tight pants of her White Canary getup, and he’s only able to slide them down without letting her go because they’ve had a lot of practice. As soon as the clothing is enough out of the way, she guides him to her entrance and sinks down on him as he thrusts forward to meet her.

“Oh god I missed this,” Sara says, and Leonard can’t focus well enough to answer, the tight, wet slide of her around him more than a little distracting.

He spins them around so Sara’s against the door, and it gives him a little better leverage, and she rocks her head back as he pounds into her, snaking a hand down to rub herself, and that’s all it takes before she crashes, her inner muscles squeezing him tight and pulling him over with her. Release is dizzying, and maybe it wasn’t a great idea so soon after being unconscious, but neither of them regrets it in the slightest.

Len is still holding her tight, and she leans forward to rest her head on his shoulder.

“So I think we both won,” Sara breathes against his neck, and he hums his agreement as he moves them to the bed, where they collapse together in a heap, her face against his chest and his arm around her. “Does that mean we get to play with each other’s stuff?”

“That sounds right.” Leonard’s barely able to manage coherent thought. He needs a few minutes, and then maybe he can tire Sara out a bit better for round two. Maybe without the jackets this time.

“I don’t think I want to do a bet again anytime soon,” she says, and he lifts his head enough to see her face.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Some bets have potential.”

“Like?” She raises her eyebrow in challenge, and he can already feel himself getting worked back up.

He kisses her, long and slow, and she’s breathless by the time he answers: “Bet you we can stay in this room for a week without getting bored.”


End file.
